Stakeout Blues
by sub0chick
Summary: Jim goes on a stakeout with Blaire


Title: Stakeout Blues

Author: jujukittychick

Fandom: The Sentinel

Cast: Jim, Blaire

Prompt: lj user=tictactales Spring 2012, right column prompts: catsuit, gun shy, pemmican

Warnings: none

Rating: PG

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the computer I'm typing this on and am making no money. The Sentinel belongs to its respective creators and owners who *are* making money off them. I'm just doing this for my own fun and entertainment; in general, if you recognize something, I don't own it.

Beta: NONE! Any mistakes are my own

Spoilers: Umm, the first few eps maybe? Nothing specific, just their relationship with each other

A/N: Pemmican again, it's killing me really lol

Summary: Jim goes on a stakeout with Blaire

"Ellison!"

Jim leaned halfway into Simon's office after hearing his name once again bellowed across the bullpen. "Yeah, Simon?"

"Need you on stakeout tonight near the club district for the Mazetti case. Take Sandberg with you; he doesn't have class in the morning, right?"

Jim stepped fully into the office and closed the door behind him, trying his best to hold back the shudder that threatened to come through as he thought of the last time he went on stakeout with his Guide. To say he was reluctant was an understatement, and this from a guy who had managed to live like a native in the middle of a jungle for eighteen months. "Umm, about that, you think you could get one of the other guys to do it?"

Simon raised one eyebrow and simply looked at his detective for a long moment. "Excuse me?"

"Well, you see, it's Blaire. You know how much energy he has normally, he's like a freaking wind up toy most days, now trap him in a car with nothing to do but watch for hours on end and he'd drive a saint to drink. He talks _constantly_ and he has no 'off' button."

"So you're saying you don't want Sandberg as your partner anymore?"

"No, not at all. He's a great partner… most of the time… when he listens. And people respond to him and will talk to him when they won't talk to an actual cop. Not to mention the whole Sentinel thing."

"And that's exactly why I need _you_ on stakeout tonight. With your senses, you can spot things the other guys might miss and you know how important this bust is going to be. I'm sure you can suck it up for a couple hours."

Jim heard the finality of the statement and nodded, already getting a headache thinking of the coming evening's events. "Yes, Simon."

**10:00 PM**

They were in a perfectly non-descript sedan parked out of view off the main drag but with a perfect view of the back of the club that they suspected Mazetti of using as a front for his drug operation. Jim had brought a thermos of coffee and some snack bars. Blaire had brought a sack full of fruit and natural, organic stuff that looked like bird food and a thermos of something apparently organic and all natural and herbal that was supposed to act as a natural stimulant better for you than the caffeine in Jim's coffee. Jim got one whiff of it and turned his sense of smell down as far as he could and get away with it before he gagged. It was going to be a long night.

**12:00 PM**

A long, low whistle drew Jim's gaze away from the club and over to his partner, or rather to the subject of his partner's gaze. A leggy blonde in a shiny black vinyl catsuit and stiletto boots was strutting past the front of their car.

"Woah, man, will you look at her."

So Jim did, and couldn't keep the corner of his lips from quirking into an amused smile. "I don't think _she's_ your type there, Chief."

"What do you mean? Look at those legs and …"

"Didn't know you went for the, um…_ ladies_… with Adam's apples."

"What? Oh… Oh! Really? Huh, wouldn't have guessed that. You know, the cultural history of cross dressing and gender modifications began…"

**2:00 PM**

"Hey, Chief, hand me one of those protein bars."

"You know, Big Guy, these really aren't that good for you, all those preservatives and additives, I could totally make you a great snack mix to eat instead. Actually, these protein bars are probably a descendent of the pemmican that the native peoples made using meat and animal fat and regional dried berries. It was high in protein and kept well during traveling so …."

Jim eyed the perfectly good protein bar in its nicely sealed individual packaging, completely tuning out Blaire's rambling that would probably completely dissuade him from eating said protein bar if he actually listened. Making his decision, he ripped open the packaging and took a healthy bite even as he nodded. "Uh huh, sure, Chief, whatever you say."

**8:00 AM**

Jim strode into Simon's office, shutting the door behind him as he gave him the report on the stakeout from the night before. All in all, he'd managed to get the information they needed to help make the bust a success, but next time he was going to figure out a way to slip Blaire a tranquilizer.

"Great work, Ellison; knew you could do it. And you even managed to survive being cooped up with Sandberg all night… He _is_ still alive, right?"

Jim chuckled and rubbed his hand over his face tiredly; it really had been a long night. "Yeah, he lives to torture me another day. In fact, he's got a set of tests he wants to do this afternoon, something about how my senses respond to prolonged usage under duress… You wouldn't happen to have another stakeout you need to send me on, _alone_, would you?"


End file.
